Please Love Me Back
by Cut Myself Shaving
Summary: Sequel to Be My Valentine. Story 2 of Cupcake Mentality . Love is a spell. Love is a curse. With love comes obsession. With love comes greed. With love comes worry. With love comes fear. With love comes pain.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. _

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Please wake up and love me back._

_Please._

Emily Hasting stops writing and smiles her small yet serene smile. This is her one-hundredth letter to her lover. Her furry, tall, dark, movie star handsome, badass, unconscious but no-longer-secret lover. Her peacefully sleeping prince in shining armor. Her Joseph. She lets out a small sigh and seals the letter. Her hair has been cut shorter. Her handwriting is neat and tidy, as usual. She has gotten used to her new life here. The food is not great but acceptable. Her room is small and narrow but not extremely uncomfortable. Her neighbors are loud and rude and mostly uneducated. But that's not a big problem for Emily Hasting. She always, always knows how to tolerate the less...fortunate people. It's her duty as a civilized good Catholic woman to be thoughtful, kind, truthful and considerate. She stands up from her bed, goes down on her knees and starts praying. For her precious Joseph, of course. He is the only meaning of her life. He is the only joy of her world. He is the only center of her universe. He is the anchor of her existence. He is her Joseph. Her one and only Joseph. He is the man in her dream. He is the man of her destiny. He is her fate. He is her hope. Without him, she is nothing. Without him, life is not worth living. Without him, the galaxy is but a silent black hole.

Emily's shoulders start to shake as hot burning tears fall down her face. Her whole body trembles with ragged sobs. Her crying echoes through the corridors. All the other inmates wince and cringe. They try their best to keep away from her. They can't decide if she's really that crazy or dangerous. She's always polite and quiet. She's always pleasant and nice. She's just like the girl next door. She's just like the friendly good-mannered childhood friend they all have back home. But there's something in her misty gray eyes that scares them stiff. There's something about that ordinary average smiling face that sends chills up and down their spines. This woman has a beautiful voice. This woman knows how to make perfect cupcakes. This woman knows how to make perfect iced tea. This woman knows how to use a Glock. This woman knows how to slash and thrust a professional hunting knife. This woman knows how to make perfect exquisite time bombs. This woman is sentenced for life without parole. This woman moans and groans and laughs and screams in her sleep every single night. This woman frightens them to death. Even though she didn't actually kill anyone. Even though she went to her church choir practice as if nothing had happened and sang like an angel after setting off the bombs...

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. _

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph. Dear Joseph._

_Please wake up and love me back._

_Please._

Joe Morelli looks around, trying to find where the sweet enchanting voice is coming from. He has been trapped in the dark dense woods for ages. He's tired and hungry. He's lost and afraid. Who is keeping on calling his name? It's not Terry. It's not Linda. It's not Carol. It's not Rita. It's not Amy. It's not Betty. It's not Mary. It's not Janice. It's not Janine. It's not Annie. It's not Lucy. It's not his mother. It's not His grandmother. It's not Steph...Stephanie. Who is the owner of this warm beautiful voice? He has to find her. He has to go to her. He has to look into her eyes. He has to kiss her lips. He has to wrap her in his arms. He has to feel her. He has to accept her. He has to...he has to...he has to love her. Love her. **LOVE** her!

The nurse jumps and squeals as the unconscious patient suddenly sits up in his bed and opens his eyes. His lips slowly part. He croaks out an almost silent word. The nurse puts a hand over her still wildly thumping heart and presses the calling button.

Joe Morelli has finally woken up from his coma.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2  
**

"Cupcake..."

The tall thin pale darkish man blinks slowly and half whispers, half croaks. His mind is a blur. His throat is raw. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know why he's here. He doesn't know the time. He doesn't know the date. He feels tired and strangely frustrated. He feels like he forgets something. Something important. Something precious. Something essential. Something sweet. Something soft. Something tasty. Something warm. He knows he has to remember that something. He knows he has to find that something. He frowns and tries hard to think. But somehow he can not think straight.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He knows he needs to concentrate. He knows he has to try harder. He needs to remember that something. He needs that something. He wants that something. He can't live without that something. He wants to taste its tender sweetness. He wants to embrace its fluffy softness. He wants to feel its gooey warmth. He wants to...he wants to...he wants to find it...he wants to claim it...he...

_ Joseph..._

_Joseph..._

_ Dear Joseph..._

He opens and widens his eyes upon recalling the voice. He knows that voice. The voice in his cold lonely scary dream. The sweet gentle voice. The beautiful enchanting voice. The pleading desperate voice. The familiar yet unfamiliar voice. A smile breaks on his face as he suddenly realizes what that "something" really is. He needs to find the owner of that divine voice. He needs to hold her in his arms. He needs to have her in his life. She will light up his days. She will enrich his nights. She will be the meaning of his world. She will be the anchor of his universe. She will be the core of his galaxy. She will want him. She will need him. She will love him. She will adore him. She will worship him. She will be his destiny. She will be his fate. She will make him whole. She will give him power. She will give him strength. She will give him faith. She will be his courage. She will be the key to his happiness. She will be his Cupcake. His one and only Cupcake. His soft tender sweet fluffy tasty unresisting Cupcake.

_Joseph..._

_Dear Joseph..._

_Please love me back._

_Please._

"Cupcake..." He half sighs and half whispers. Yes, he will find her. Yes, he will love her. Yes, he will cherish her. Yes, he will wrap her in his arms. Yes, he will place a kiss on her lips. Yes, he will make her his. He looks up and looks around. He sees a lot of strange faces. He vaguely hears a lot of noises. He pays them no attention. He needs to leave this place. He needs to find his Cupcake. He has to find his Cupcake. He will find his Cupcake. He knows he will find his happiness the moment he finds her. And then they will share a life and live happily ever after. He tries to get out of his narrow hospital bed. He waves his arms and kicks his legs when hands coming out of nowhere grab hold of him. He tries to break away from the merciless restraints. He tries to growl. He tries to yell. He tries to shout. He tries to scream. He tries to bite. He tries to claw. He tries his best. But still he fails. He feels a needle piercing his skin.

"Cupcake..." He moans.

"Cupcake..." He groans.

Soon he loses his battle and closes his eyes as once again he falls soundly asleep. The doctors and the nurses let out a collective sigh of relief. Mr. Joe Morelli paid no attention to their questions. Mr. Joe Morelli gave them no answer. Mr. Joe Morelli did not respond to his own name. However, Mr. Joe Morelli's behaviors and lack of reaction are not exactly unexpected. Patients waking up from a coma are sometimes confused at first. They will soon calm down and learn to cope in due time. It doesn't necessarily mean they have amnesia or any other kind of severe head traumas. Besides, both his MRI and CT reports showed that everything was perfectly fine. They quickly set to work like the highly trained professionals that they are. They are truly glad none of Mr. Morelli's families and friends was present and witnessed the scene. Because they also know that head injuries can be tricky and unpredictable at times. And the golden rule of medicine is never say never...


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Stephanie Plum tries not to feel worried.

She knows she's not the world's most beautiful woman or smartest person. She knows she has made too many bad mistakes and stupid decisions. She knows all kinds of rumours are still running wild. She knows people are still whispering behind her back. She's grateful none of her family and friends has come forward and asked her about what happened that day. Curiosity must be killing them, she's sure of that. But she just wants to put all the sad, unpleasant, humiliating memories behind and start living and enjoying her life. Her new life. A life without constantly feeling uncomfortable, frustrated or guilty for whatever happened in the past.

She simply doesn't want to think or talk about Joe Morelii. She didn't and still doesn't want to go to the hospital to visit him. She has tried all she could to forget the ugly entangled history between them. She has tried all she could to rein in the anger that suddenly surfaced as the initial shock and sorrow slowly ebbed away. She still remembers that day. The blaze of the sun. The smell of the burning car. The worries and disgust in the pit of her stomach. The enigmatic look in Ranger's deep beautiful eyes. The gentle touch of his perfect lips. And the sound of his fast ferocious punch. The dull thudding sound. The one simple merciless punch. Sometimes when she rests her head on Ranger's bare muscular chest, she can still hear it in her ears. And then she will marvel at his power, his strength, and his determination and ability to protect her at all costs. Who could have thought "No price" is the highest and dearest price? Who could have thought the man who once told her that Batcave is forever will accept her love and love her back?

She also vaguely remembers the cracking sound of Joe Morelli's head smashing against the ground. The sight of Morelli's gun and his unmoving form. The blood coming out from his nose and mouth. The sirens of the ambulance. The tears falling down her father's old worried face. The look of concern in her cop friends' eyes. The warmth and safety of Ranger's embrace. And the happy smile of relief on her mother's tear-stricken face.

And now after seven months, seven days and seven hours, Joe Morelli has finally woken up from his coma. And somehow the only response the doctors and nurses could get from him is "Cupcake"...

Stephanie Plum tries hard not to feel sick or afraid. It's gonna be alright. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and firmly tells herself. She's with Ranger now. She loves him and he loves her back. And she's also a different woman now. She has changed. She has become better. She's braver and smarter and stronger. She won't make the same mistakes. She won't make decisions out of guilt. She knows what she needs and whom she loves. She's happy with her life and herself. She will deal with whatever trouble Joe Morelli is going to cause.

Now matter what.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Angie Morelli dabs at her eyes with a small handkerchief. She has always been a strong and tough woman. She never cried when her handsome, brutal yet extremely charming husband beat her, cheated on her or gambled his salary away. She didn't shed a tear when she was in labor. Her eyes remained dry during her husband's funeral. But right now she simply can't stop her tears. She's too tired, too worried and too afraid. And she has trouble suppressing her raging anger. She's mad at the world. She's mad at herself. She's mad at her son. She's also mad at both Emily Hasting and Stephanie Plum.

She has sworn to herself that she will never ever bake, buy or eat another cupcake again for the rest of her life. She has no idea why Joseph has to nicknamed his girlfriend "Cupcake". She has no idea why that Hasting woman wants to be Joseph's "Cupcake" so badly. She has no idea why Stephanie Plum could not settle down with Joseph and start their own family. She has no idea why Stephanie Plum and Joseph kept breaking up and getting back together. She has no idea why her life is always so complicated and never easy. The only thing she knows is that she is sick of cupcakes. Soft. Sweet. Fluffy. Shallow. Gooey. Easy. Cheap. And empty. Just like her dead husband's sexy smile and all his sugar-coated promises. Just like her illusion of a happy family. Beautiful and attractive on the outside but hollow inside. Pretty, but sadly worthless.

Her mother-in-law is slipping further away from reality. Her elder son is once again kicked out by his wife. Her daughter is filing for a divorce. She herself is sitting in a cheap uncomfortable hospital chair waiting for her younger son, the pride and joy of her life, to wake up from his drug induced slumber. The doctors have finally warned her that Joseph may suffer from amnesia or other kinds of head traumas. The district attorney hasn't decided if she is going to file any charges against him. Stephanie Plum and that Ranger have moved in together and moved on with their lives. Angie lets out a harsh, ragged laugh. And somehow she can't help feeling a little bit happy for Stephanie. Angie closes her eyes and feels ashamed and guilty. She thinks of the little girl who followed Joseph into his father's garage many years ago. She thinks of the young girl who became the town's laughing stock when Joseph left home to join the Navy. She thinks of all the rumours and gossips concerning Stephanie and Joseph. At least one of them has found true love. At least one of them is having a happy life. She grasps hold of her sleeping son's hand and tells herself.

And maybe Joseph can find his own happiness when he wakes up and restarts his life. A life without his Cupcake, his Stephanie Plum.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

It is late afternoon when Joe Morelli finally wakes up. He's all alone inside his private ward. His mother has gone home to prepare dinner and his elder brother has not yet arrived. He opens his eyes and blinks twice. He feels weak and tired but eerily calm. He slowly moves his fingers and toes. He takes a deeper breath and immediately knows where he is. He's inside a hospital. Joe Morelli smiles. He's no stranger to hospitals, cuts and bruises. He can recognize the unique smell anywhere, and all the nurses_—_young and aging, married or divorced_—_like him. He looks around and wonders what happened to him. His head is dizzy, his mouth is dry, but other than that he seems to be okay. He's not in pain, and he doesn't have any broken rib or limb. He listens to the vague voices and sounds coming from outside the door and tries to concentrate and think. Why is he here? How long has he been hospitalized? But tries as he might, his mind stubbornly remains a complete blank. He's a little annoyed that he can't remember anything. Not even his dream. And now he's also hungry. He never likes feeling hungry.

A tall sturdy male nurse comes into the door and raises his brows upon finding his patient awake. He goes out to call the doctor right away and didn't waste any time smiling his trained pleasant smile. Soon the doctor comes to check the vital signs of the patient and ask a few questions. She then frowns at the answers and tells the nurse to page another doctor. Modern medicine still has its limits. She wishes one day she can know more about head traumas. And the legendary patient looks even cuter when he's calm and awake. The doctor thinks secretly to herself and gives Joe Morelli a small encouraging smile. She is always intrigued by strong, handsome men's sad vulnerability, and she has fallen in love with his permanent 5 o'clock shadow and lean sleeping face. Even if she has issues with his dense body hair.

Anthony Morelli parks his brother's car and whistles a happy song. He's not exactly a loving elder brother but he does care about Joe. They have been through a lot together, and he wants to be there when his younger brother wakes up this time. His life has never been easy. His kids are having problems in school. Both his boss and his wife are way too demanding. His seemingly strong mother is falling apart under too much stress and pressure. And he's going to be a father AGAIN in less than 8 and a half months. Anthony steps into the elevator and blows out a sigh. He sometimes wishes he could change place with Joe. It's not that he doesn't love his sweet but not little family. It's just that sometimes he can't help wanting to run away from all the responsibilities and duties of being a father and husband and be himself again. Now he can understand why Joe never proposes to Stephanie. It's not about love. It's not about trust. It's not about companionship or friendship. It's about sacrifice, commitment and courage. And it's too much and too heavy to bear if you are not 100 percent sure and ready.

Joe Morelli starts to feel panic. He doesn't know why he can't be sure of anything. He hopes he knows why he can't remember things more clearly. They say his name is Joseph Morelli. They say he is a Trenton police detective. They say he has been in a coma for more than 7 months until this morning. They say he had suffered from a severe concussion. They say he had several fractured bones. They say he may have memory loss. And they ask him if "Cupcake" means something, anything special to him.

But he can't remember anything.

He can't remember his name. He can't remember his birthday. He can't remember if he has a pet. He can't remember who the president is. He can't remember his mother's face. He can't remember who Stephanie is. All he knows is he's hungry and thirsty and in a panic. And somewhere deep, deep down inside his being, he knows he has forgotten something. Something warm. Something soft. Something precious. Something essential. Something sweet. Something very, very special to him. He knows he needs that something. He knows he has to find that something. But he simply can't remember what that "something" is. A drop of tear falls down Joe Morelli's face.

And it scares the Hell out of him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Joe Morelli has lost his memory? _Wow. It's just like the world's funniest and cruelest joke._ Men raise their brows and drop their jaws. Women twist their lips, narrow their eyes or frowns. _How convenient. _He has no trouble reading. He has no trouble writing. He knows how to use knife and fork. He knows what toilet paper and shower curtain are for. He knows how to speak English. He knows when to say "Yes", "No" and "Please". He knows green hospital jello is world-famously gross. He's thinner, paler but still furry and good-looking. He just can't remember his damn name or his mother's face. And he remembers nothing of his past. Nothing.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror marveling at the scar on his brow and the tattoo on his chest. He can't be sure if the name "Stephanie" sounds familiar. He can't decide if "Cupcake" means somehting special. He furrows his brows in confusion when one of the female nurses asks him if "lizard tongue" ring a bell. His whole family comes to visit. They bring with them his dog(with his doctor's approval, of course), his family photo albums and all kinds of his favorite homemade dishes and desserts. But sadly their hope crashes as all their attempts fail. Nothing triggers anything in Joe's brain. His grandmother's presence and mystical stare(aka the Eye) don't help. His dog's big wet smelly kiss doesn't work. His godmother's lasagna makes him burp. The sting of his cousin's slap on the back of his head makes him course. His friends come with wicked stoiries of their wild, wild past and go home crestfallen hours later. Then one by one barmaids, waitresses, several thirty-something divorcée, and a tall curvy cold-eyed blonde woman drop in and pay him a visit. He happily and almost shyly gives them his most charming smile as they kiss him on his cheek and hold his hand. But still he remembers nothing. Nothing at all.

A constant stream of doctors, specialists, and shrinks come to examine him every day and shrug and go away. His aunts and grandmother light candles for him and weep and frantically pray. His dog chews his cousin's shoes and socks and couch and wonders when his human will be back. His mother holds her head in her hands and closes her eyes. Her tears have run dry. She has done whatever she could and now she's tired. There's only one way left. She has to go talk to Stephanie Plum. She has to persuade Stephanie to visit Joseph. She hopes and wishes and prays that the sight of her son's on-and-off ex-girlfriend will be the magical cure-it-all. She needs to have her Joseph back.

And she won't take "No" for an answer.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7  
**

"How dare you, Angie Morelli." Helen Plum hisses and narrows her pale blue eyes. "How dare you."

If you look close enough, you will find the striking resemblance between Helen and her two daughters. And, believe it or not, this always mild and polite woman does have a temper—not the violent, eruptive and sometimes destructive temper many of the Plums have, but the cold, quiet yet furious temper that runs in the Mazurs' blood. The church falls silent. People around Helen Plum and Angie Morelli hastily take a step back. No, you don't have to be Albert Einstein to detect the rising tension or the raging anger. And thank God Caroline Hasting, crazy Emily's poor sweet mother, has been dead for over eighteen years. The nice and kind people of Trenton worriedly look on and dazedly think to themselves. Yes, they have all been waiting for this moment to arrive. The inevitable show down between the two good Catholic mothers has been the topic of the town for months. But somehow they didn't feel the usual excitement and anticipation. They don't really want to witness two of their good friends and neighbors exchanging accusations and screaming at each other. They do have their limit.

"Stephanie owes Joseph that much." Angie Morelli takes a deep breath and stubbornly insists. "None of this would have happened had she not cheated on him with that Ranger."

Helen Plum pales. The on-lookers gasp. Bella Morelli keeps on murmuring to herself and remains oblivious to the rest of the world. Both Joe Morelli's sister and sister-in-law wince and once again try to pull Angie away before it's too late. All the people inside the church are grateful Edna Mazur and Frank Plum haven't yet arrived. They sensed trouble coming when Angie, with iron determination in her dense brown eyes, went to request for Stephanie's help. And now they all have a bad feeling about where this conversation is heading.

"None of this would have happened had your precious son not molested my daughter in your husband's garage." Helen's soft composed voice shatters the awkward, uncomfortable silence and sends cold shiver down everyone's spine.

"None of this would have happened had your precious son not taken my child's virginity and written about it on bathroom walls." Helen leans slightly forward into Angie Morelli's suddenly bloodless face and clenches her fists.

"None of this would have happened had your precious son not tried to kill Stephanie in front of Carlos." Helen holds Angie prisoner with her steely gaze.

"None of this would have happened had you been a more competent mother and done a much better job raising your darling Joseph." Helen slowly spits out the hurtful words and tries hard not to feel ashamed as burning tears fall down Angie Morelli's thin hollow cheeks. She may have been a simple housewife for almost forty years, but she's never stupid or ignorant. She knows she's not the world's best mother. She knows Stephanie is far from perfect. She knows Stephanie has made a lot of bad choices and shameful, embarrassing mistakes. She knows she will be lying if she declares what Angie said is untrue.

But she is Stephanie's mother.

And Stephanie was almost shot to death right in front of Frank's eyes.

The terrified look on Frank's face broke her heart.

Stephanie's timid, shaky, brave little smile shattered and mended her soul.

So she, too, has every right to play the blaming game.

She won't allow Stephanie to visit Joseph. She doesn't want Joseph to remember what he has forgotten. She wants him to let go of the past and embrace his new future. A future without ugly memories. A future without bad habits. A future without her daughter. For the very first time in her life, Stephanie has found a man who truly loves and cares for her, and Helen will do everything and anything to make sure of Stephanie's happiness.

What has to be done must be done.

Even if that means she has to be harsh and selfish.

Even if that means she has to hurt other people.

That, is Helen Plum's duty as a mother.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8  
**

Who doesn't have an ugly past?

Who doesn't have hideous secrets to hide?

Who's lucky enough to forget?

Who's brave enough to to remember, to learn, to move on, to let go, to embrace the new life and smile?

_And maybe it's better for things to stay this way, for everyone's best interest._

The generous and kind people of Trenton decide as they soon choose side. It's not that they don't feel sorry for Angie Morelli. They all know life has never been easy for poor Angie. They all know how much she needs and relies on her younger son. It's just that they have all grown bored and tired. All those arm flapping, cursing, and yelling. All those hooking a finger into her collar to take a peek at her breasts. All those breakups and getting back together. It was almost like watching **_Jersey Shore LIVE_**, Sweet Jesus save us, please. And most of them don't want to have the old Joe Morelli back. He may—or should they say "might"—be a good, hard-working police detective, but he can also be annoyingly aggressive, arrogant, and demanding at times. Besides, the fact that he has slept with most of the town and been proud of it doesn't help. Trenton is not exactly a huge city. Everyone does have sisters, cousins, daughters, mothers and aunts. Sometimes it simply doesn't do to say "Well, I am a different man now" instead of "Gee, I am so sorry".

And they all kind of want to see Stephanie Plum have a Happy Ever After, truth be told. She has been beaten up, shot at, threatened, kidnapped and stalked for too many times, and was almost killed on several occasions. They really, really have had enough of the noises of the sirens and the poisoned smoke of all the creepy blown-up cars. They really, really have had enough of the terrible smell coming off Stephanie when someone finally digs her out of the dumpster. All they want is for Stephanie to stay safe and away from danger so that they finally have some peace and quiet. And let's be honest, Joe Morelli has never been able or willing to help Stephanie out. He didn't even let her borrow his car. Ranger, on the other hand, is a totally different story. Everyone knows he's most willing and capable to look after Stephanie. Criminals and crazies run like Hell at the sight of him. All of them actually feel safer and sleep sweeter when he or his men is following Stephanie around the city. These men are highly trained professionals. They know what they are doing. The sight and smell of a burning Porsche is far more fascinating. And the almost smile on Ranger's face when he looks at Stephanie and says "It's but a car, babe" is simply heart stopping.

So they cast their sympathetic eyes upon a silently weeping Angie Morelli. So they nod their heads vigorously in agreement when Helen Plum stops her accusing. They can't say they don't see Angie's point. They can't say what Helen said is wrong. Hell, they can't even say they don't feel a little sorry for crazy Emily and her unanswered love for her Joseph. Maybe Emily can forget about her obsession with Joseph and finally find some peace in her prison cell. Maybe Joe can start anew and one day find his own happiness. Maybe the Plums and the Morelli will then focus on living their separate lives, stop starting a fight inside the church and making everyone feel uncomfortable and uneasy.

And maybe Joe really deserves it. Pulling his gun on Stephanie while Ranger was there? Even stupidity has its limit. Geez.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9  
**

Elizabeth Hasting wraps her arms tightly around herself. She feels safe and secure inside this cocoon. The darkness is tender and sweet. The silence is comforting and strong. Nothing can hurt her. No one can interrupt her. And she doesn't have to think about or remember anything. Anything. She closes her tired and swollen eyes and lets out a small, exhausted sigh. She has spent all her life scheming, plotting and protecting. Now it's finally time for her to rest and relax. She didn't even stay to meet their lawyer, a guy that looks like a young Donald Trump but is not as smart or sly as the lawyers on TV or in the movies. She hopes Emily is doing all right. She knows she should be there for Emily, but she honestly has no strength left. She can no longer defend. She can no longer fight. She almost died when the RangeMan thugs lay their hands on her. And now she's barely alive. And she's trying her best not to long for Joseph. Her movie star handsome and wicked Joseph. She misses his smile. She misses his eyes. She misses his furry arms, legs and chest. But all she can do now is dream...and dream...and dream...

She listens to Emily's even breathing and regular heartbeats. And suddenly she feels sorry for Emily. She feels sorry for Joseph. She feels sorry for herself. _STOP! _Elizabeth says firmly. Love. Hate. Humiliation. Failure. Revenge. And the meaning of life. She has stopped wasting her time on any of those attractive but worthless things. She just wants to sleep. She just wants to dream. She just wants to forget. She's so, so tired, frustrated and depressed. She wants to fall asleep and never wake up. She just wants to be loved. She just wants to be cherished. She just wants to be a Cupcake, a simple, airy, pleasant, fluffy, easy and cute Cupcake, Joseph's Cupcake, his very favorite Cupcake. She doesn't know what went wrong. She doesn't like having a broken heart. She's dying to see Joseph. She's ashamed to think of Joseph. She still can't believe she failed him. She's still greatly disappointed she didn't kill Stephanie. And she misses her mother and father terribly. She wishes Spark, her childhood family dog, can be here to lick her face and bark his happy bark. Oh, how she wishes she can turn back the clock.

Regrets and remorse swallow her whole. She smiles and cries, and chooses not to put up a fight. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe this is her fate. Maybe it's time for her to let go and move on to the she will be united with her parents and Spark. She doesn't see any white light. She doesn't hear any beautiful sound. Just the darkness. Just the silence. Just herself. Just...just...

Just the memories of the large strong hands that grasped hold of her arms and shoulders.

Just the memories of the intriguing and faint scent of sweat, aftershave and pure masculinity.

Just the memories of the hot muscular male bodies.

Just the memories of the shining black, dark or light brown skin.

Just the memories of the unfamiliar desire engulfing the core of her being.

To be wrapped in those arms. To be kissed by those lips. To be appraised and caressed by those exotic eyes. To taste, to sense, to feel, to experience what it is like to embraced by Ranger's men...all of them...everyone of them...by Ranger...

Emily Hasting wakes up with a gasp. She feels hot and bothered though she's bathing in cold sweat. She can't stop trembling or feeling frightened and...excited? She knows something really, really wrong and really, really bad must have happened. "Elizabeth?" She half croaks, half whispers. "Elizabeth?" She begins to panic when there's no answer. "Elizabeth!" She screams. And screams. And screams. All the sleepy female inmates blink in confusion and hold their breath in fear. They'd really love to shout "Shut the fuck up! You crazy bitch!" and go back to sleep. But they dare not take the risk of enraging the crazy bitch. So they keep their mouths shut, pull the covers over their heads, and wonder who the Hell Elizabeth is. Emily Hasting sure is no Lesbian, is she?

Geez.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

They release him from the hospital. He blinks. He's a little bit nervous and frightened. He feels unsure about his future. The blue sky is bright and cheerful. The smiles on the nurses' faces are sympathetic and encouraging. The thin and exhausted-looking woman—Mrs. Morelli, Angie, his mother—takes him to a small two-story house on a narrow, unfamiliar street. Everything inside is tidy and clean but smells faintly of dog. _Must be Bob_. He thinks to himself and smiles. He likes that friendly dog a lot. They look around the living room and the tiny kitchen. He takes a peek at the basement. They walk upstairs to the the second floor. He sits behind the desk in his study(or home office). He finds a picture of him and the woman named Stephanie Plum. He stares at it for a full minute. She looks pretty. And cute. He likes the color of her eyes. He amazes at the wildness of her hair. But he doesn't feel or remember a thing. She's but yet another stranger to him. The disappointment in his mother's sad lonely eyes makes him feel guilty. He wants to make her happy. He really does. But he can't do that by telling lies. He has to be honest with her, though he feels terribly sorry for her. He needs to do the right thing. He can't afford to hurt her feelings further.

They go to the small bedroom. He sits on the bed. He looks out of the window. He opens the closet. He finds a couple woman's t-shirts, bras, panties and socks inside one of the drawers, all washed, ironed, and neatly folded. He can't help feeling awkward and uneasy as he sense his mother's eyes on his back. Stephanie Plum. The woman whom he loves. The woman who almost got him killed. He was her first. She broke his legs. They couldn't stay away from each other. They couldn't live together. They yelled and screamed and waved their arms in private and in public and drove each other mad. They kept breaking up. They kept getting back together. Everybody thought there was no way they were going to get rid or grow tired of each other.

Until that day.

When Stephanie chose Ranger.

In front of practically half the city.

He tries his best and thinks of all the things his mother, aunts, brother, sister and cousins told him. Still he can't remember a damn thing about his "everlasting on-and-off" "soap-opera-like" "twisted" and "abnormal" relationship with Stephanie. He can't remember the lingering scent of her sweet perfume. He can't remember the taste of her full red lips. He can't remember the feel of her soft warm body. He lets out a silent sigh and decides to focus on more pressing matters. The guys from the police union were quite frank and straightforward. They will do what they can to help him, of course, but they can't rule out the possibility that he won't be able to keep his job. They'd like and, as a matter of fact, have to take care of their own. But right now they are caught in a difficult situation. What he did was deemed as a disgrace to the police. People are sick and tired of domestic violence committed by police officers. The union has to consider the public's opinion and try its best to restore the police's image. They are really sorry, but his "health" condition is simply not helping his case.

Great. Joe Morelli tells himself. He has just lost his memories, and now he's going to lose his job. At least he still has his dog and his family, and he can also sell this house if needed. He smiles feebly at his mother and together they pack a couple bags of his clothes and stuff. He will be living with her and Grandma Bella for the time being. He will always have company. He won't be lonely. And maybe he will start getting his memories back once he moves back into his old bedroom. He looks around his bedroom for the last time and walks down the stairs. He takes the bags to the car while his mother locks the door. His eyes fall on the house right across the street and he freezes.

"Emily." Morelli murmurs under his breath as the setting sun shines into his eyes. He stares at the ordinary, smallish, plain-looking two-story house. A pang of unexpected sweetness fills his empty heart. Strange, powerful longing runs through his veins. "Emily...Hasting..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11  
**

"Elizabeth." She begs.

"Elizabeth." She pleads.

"Elizabeth." She croaks and chokes on her tears.

But the stubborn and confused Elizabeth refuses to hear or answer. She tries and tries and tries again. She cries. She sobs. She stops to wipe away her burning tears. She feels like her whole world has just fallen apart, and she is buried alive under millions and millions of tons of debris. The pain is so strong and so intense. She cannot breathe. She cannot think. She has never been this unsure and scared. What is this strange feeling? What is this powerful craving? What is this persistent longing? What is this ferocious hunger? Why is she thinking of all those worthless thugs? Why is she thinking of all those strong muscular arms? Why is she thinking of all those smooth darker skin? Why is she thinking of the sweat intoxicating smell of manly sweat? The heat of their bodies. The tattoos on their arms, necks, and faces. The raw power. The attraction. The desire. The lust...

**NO! **

She stomps her feet and shrieks in frustration. She is supposed to remain loyal to Joseph! Elizabeth is supposed to remain loyal to Joseph! Her precious Joseph. Their precious Joseph. The wonderful and flawless Joseph. The sweet and gentle Joseph. The wild and passionate Joseph. The brave and brilliant Joseph. She has to preserve her innocence for Joseph. She has to save her purity for Joseph. She needs to stay on the path of her true calling. She cannot afford to be distracted. She cannot betray her faith. She cannot betray her love. She cannot betray her fate. She cannot betray Joseph. She is destined to be a Cupcake. She is destined to be his Cupcake. She is destined to be his Strawberry Delight. She is destined to be his Chocolate Devil. She is destined to be his Passion Fruit Mango. She is destined to be his Cream Cheese Lemon.

**She won't be seduced!  
**

******She will not betray!**

**There cannot be another man! **

******There will not be another man! **

******She will not be allured by those colored man!  
**

******She will not be allured by that colored man!  
**

******She will not be tricked by his exotic appearance!  
**

******She will not be tricked by his almost black dark brown eyes.  
**

**************She will not be tricked by his** Mocha Latte skin.

**************She will not be tricked by his** perfect lips.  


**************She will not be tricked by his** deep sexy voice.  


******No.  
**

******NO.  
**

******NO!  
**

******She is a Cupcake, Joseph's one and only precious Cupcake...  
**

******She will remain true and and loyal...  
**

******She will remain sweet and fluffy...  
**

******She will remain cute and lovely...  
**

******She will remain soft and airy...  
**

******She belongs with ******** Joseph**...  


******He's the one she's always wanted...  
**

******She has been in love with his shining smile, his off-white teeth, his garlic breath, his hairy chest for years...  
**

******She will always be Joseph's Cupcake...  
**

******She won't fall for another man...  
**

******She will not...  
**

******She can't...  
**

******That perfect, perfect, perfect man...  
**

******YUM.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Joe Morelli tries to find as much as he can about Emily Hasting, the plain, ordinary yet mysterious woman who used to live right across the street from him. She comes from a well-respected family, has no siblings, and is three years older than him. They grew up in the same neighborhood. They went to the same schools. Their parents used to be friends. But now he has absolutely no memory of Emily and knows nothing about her personal life. And he just can't get her face out of his mind.

He thinks about her all the time. He even dreams about her at night. Sometimes when he abruptly wakes up in the middle of the night, he will sneak out of his mother's house, walk all the way back to his home and sit on his doorstep to watch the empty lonely house right across the street. He doesn't know why he is so obsessed with Emily. They have never been friends. They have never been close. He just feels this powerful urge deep down inside. And the sad and cruel fact that he doesn't remember her or anything else makes him feel guilty and somewhat ashamed. He doesn't remember if he has ever nodded politely and said "Good Morning" to Emily. He doesn't remember if he has ever smiled at her while saying "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year". He doesn't remember her straight shoulder-length light brown hair. He doesn't remember her misty gray eyes. He doesn't remember her sweet innocent voice. He remembers nothing. Nothing at all.

So he goes to the Trenton Public Library nearly every day. He searches through old newspapers and gossip magazines. He uses the public computer to google her name and read millions and millions of related blogs and Facebook pages. And the more he knows about Emily, the more he wants to meet her in person. He wants to look into her misty gray eyes and tell her how sorry he is. He wants to ask her what her favorite color is. Though he knows what Emily did was very, very wrong, he still wants to thank her for standing up for him. He has seen Ranger and Stephanie from afar once or twice, and though he didn't feel a thing—no anger, no remorse, no resentment, and no fear, but a part of him can't help blaming Stephanie Plum for what happened.

He felt so awkward the day his mother went home from the church in angry tears. He feels uncomfortable every time he steps inside Pino's or Tasty Bakery and senses everyone's eyes on his back. He hates being the topic of gossips and rumours. He suffered from severe head trauma. He has to move in with his mother. He has finally lost his job. He was grilled by the not very friendly and utterly unattractive DA. He may have no choice but to sell his house. He is a victim, too. And no one can say Stephanie Plum is not to be blamed. She did cheat on him. Nobody can deny that. Even if he himself remembers nothing of it.

Joe Morelli shakes his head and blows out a heavy sigh. No, he's not trying to play the blaming game. What's done is done. There's no way to turn back the clock. It's just that he feels so alone and so frustrated sometimes, and his foolish heart keeps yearning for Emily Hasting—a woman he can't remember. A woman who loves him enough to kill for him. A woman who is smart enough to build time bombs all by herself. A woman who screamed in the courtroom and told the whole world she would do the same thing again, again, and again had she had the chance. She's unstable. She's dangerous. She's way beyond crazy. She's not beautiful, sexy, or attractive. But somehow he can't stop wanting her, longs for her, and...loving her.

He lets out a bark of laughter. Bob, the loyal, playful and always drooling dog, turns to look at him with undoubting eyes. He pats Bob on the head gently and smiles a sad sarcastic smile. Maybe he's the one who's really crazy and madder than the Mad Hatter.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13  
**

She starts drawing paintings with crayons. Sometimes she draws colorful and yummy-looking cupcakes. Sometimes she draws muscular and handsome men. And she sings to herself while she draws. She has a most beautiful voice. Some inmates sing along under their breath. Some inmates actually have tears in their eyes upon hearing her angelic voice. Some inmates forget where they are and why they are here. Judas. Bad Romance. Starships. Papa Don't Preach. Nessun Dorma. Only Time. Domino Dancing. Amazing Grace. In Too Deep. On and on she draws. On and on she sings. The heavenly voice soars through the corridors. The paintings fall onto the hard bare floor.

_Emily and Joe's Cupcake Place._ In clear and orderly handwriting she writes beside a rack of Boston Creme cupcake.

_Elizabeth Hasting Manoso. _In elegant and carefree handwriting she writes and writes on the plain white paper._  
_

The tranquil smile on her sometimes peaceful and sometimes contorted face deepens as her inner conflicts and struggles wage on like a newly nuked Hell. She wants a normal life with a handsome and extra hairy Italian man. She craves for passion and excitement and a dangerous, mysterious and most intriguing Cuban man. She wants to bear Joseph children. Joseph Junior. Anthony. Marco. Ana Maria. Angel Bella. And Rosalina. All six of them.

She wants to be beautiful and strong and tough and sexy and good enough for Ranger, for her Carlos. She wants to be held in his perfect arms. She wants to kiss him in the open wind. She wants to look into his eyes and see millions and millions of shining stars. She wants to laugh with him. She wants to weep with him. She wants to be free. She wants to be wild. She wants to be brave. She wants to be smart. She wants to be the love of his life. She wants to be the mother of his children. She wants...she wants...she wants...

She stops drawing pink and blue and green cupcakes with colorful sprinkles. She stops drawing red cupcakes with creamy cheese frosting. She stops drawing orange cupcakes with chocolate buttercream on top. She stops drawing cupcakes all together. And instead she writes, and writes, and writes.

_Elizabeth Hasting Manoso_.

___Emily_ Hasting Manoso. 

___Elizabeth Manoso. _

_______Emily_ Manoso.

"And when the samba played. The sun would set so high. Ring through my ears and sting my eyes. Your Spanish lullaby." She starts singing, her voice soft and dreamy, her eyes shining and glistening. And later that evening, Emily Elizabeth Hasting calls her lawyer and politely informs him that she has no wish to meet Mr. Joseph Morelli during the weekly visiting hours.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14  
**

Joe Morelli can't believe his ears. Emily Hasting has no wish to meet him. Her lawyer sounds polite and genuinely apologetic on the phone, but the intrigued smile in her voice is unmistakable. He thanks her and hangs up. He's suddenly at a loss. He's not really sure what he's been expecting, to tell the truth. He may have lost his memories but he's not naïve. It's not like he and Emily have a chance for happiness. He know perfectly well that they can't have a life together under the current circumstance. She's going to be imprisoned for the rest of her life. He will probably have to move to a new state, find a new job and rebuild his life eventually. Sometimes love has to bow to reality. Besides, they don't really know each other that well.

But still it shouldn't end up this way.

He holds his head in both hands. He has never thought she would turn him down. He thought she would be pleased or even thrilled. He thought they can talk and know more about each other. She will smile when he thanks her for standing up for him. She will laugh when he tells her about the funny and absurd things in his everyday life. She will bare her soul to him and give a vent to her fear, loneliness, sorrow and frustration. They will become friends. They will become soul mates. They will become Platonic lovers. Then they can both be happy and stop feeling lonely and unwanted. But now his bubble has been busted by no one other than Emily Hasting, the plain and ordinary woman he thought he could trust and love. How cruel can life be? How much more does he have to put up with? He feels like a stranger among his family. He feels like an intruder inside his own house and body. Whenever he pats his own dog, he feels like he's playing with somebody else's pet. Whenever he looks into the mirror, he sees someone he doesn't know. There's no familiarity. There's no closeness. There's no heartfelt affection. And no matter how hard he tries, he just can't erase the awkwardness and distance he feels from his mind. He feels like an abandoned child facing the vast unknown world.

And maybe he's more than a little scared, he admits.

He lets out a sigh, gets out of his car(he can't even remember his name or his own mother's face, but he remembers how to drive. Just how strange is that?), walks in the new French bakery and café he found last week and comes face to face with a plus-sized black woman in a too tight suit and Stephanie Plum. And the moment he sees the panic and surprise in Stephanie's suddenly widened blue eyes, he remembers.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15  
**

"Cupcake." Like a stealthy venomous serpent the familiar word quietly slithers out of Joe Morelli's mouth. There's no affection in his cold steely eyes or flat emotionless tone, but the hurt, the distrust and the hint of anger are too apparent. Memories rush back into his suddenly clear and fully functioning mind, many of them extremely unpleasant. That hot summer day. Her blown up car and apartment. His worries. His anger. His frustration. The disbelief. The betrayal. The pain. The fear. The loneliness. The sweet scent of her new perfume dances around him in the air. She looks great, he has to admit. Her hair is shorter than he remembers. Her eyes are as blue as ever. The beautiful necklace she's wearing looks elegant and expensive. So it does pay to have a rich new boyfriend. A humourless smile creeps into the corner of Morelli's mouth. He takes a step closer, towering over his slender ex on-and-off girlfriend and blocking the exit. No, he doesn't plan to hurt or scare her. He just wants her to know his sadness and frustration. She's the one who ruined his life. She owes him that much.

Silence falls.

Time stops.

Everyone freezes.

Stephanie pales.

And then all of a sudden the hot pink-haired Lula reacts.

Without warning she swings her cherry pink Kelly Bag hitting Morelli in the side of his head and lashes out a vicious kick at his knee. She then grabs hold of Stephanie's arm and barge out of the door as Morelli tumbles out of the way in pain. Before anyone inside the bakery has the chance to recovers from the shock, Lula's brand new vampire red Firebird has already disappeared from the scene. With wild, widened eyes she turns to take a look at Stephanie and decides her friend is not feeling okay. Immediately she hits the speed dial and starts talking non-stop in a panic tone the moment her giant mountain of a fiancé answers the phone. Minutes later, the Firebird takes a sharp right turn at the crossroad and screeches into the underground garage. Lula stops and parks the car like a pro and turns to hold Stephanie's slightly trembling hand as Tank opens the door and squats down to check on Stephanie.

Well, maybe she overreacted. Lula gets out of the car and admits to herself. Maybe Morelli meant Stephanie no harm. Maybe he just wanted to say Hi and have a friendly talk. Who says exes can't be friends? And maybe she stepped on Morelli foot and jabbed him in his ribs with her elbow by accident on the way out. Too bad she didn't have the time to stop to check. She's not a violent person, really. She will never hurt anyone intentionally. She's sorry if she caused Morelli any kind of pain or discomfort, but still she's very proud of herself. She has been taking self-defense lessons from Tank for weeks now. She can and will step up and protect her friend like a kickass chick anytime. No harm shall come Stephanie's way even when Ranger is in the wind. So what if she did overreact? Better overreact than underestimate the threat. Besides, Mr. Morelli is not exactly the nice and harmless Prince Charming, let's be honest.

And ain't it nice that Stephanie didn't drop the bags of ultra-delicious buy-2-get-1-free chocolate croissants?


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16  
**

Joe Morelli struggles to stand up. The armour of coffee and freshly baked pasteries makes him dizzy. He steadies himself as the buzz in his ears quiets down. He's not sure if his nose is bleeding. He's not sure if he should feel more angry or more humiliated. His whole body is hurting. People are watching and whispering under their breath. He doesn't want to make a scene. He contains whatever emotion raging in his mind, finds himself a table and sits down. The tall youngish waiter tries his best not to look him in the eyes when taking his order. Suddenly he feels voracious. He dips his croissants in his coffee and wolfs them down. Soon his mother will be calling, he's pretty sure of that. He's glad that Lula didn't break his bones or anything. He just wanted to talk to Stephanie. He just wanted to ask her why. He just wanted to make sure that she takes her share of the blame. He just wanted to see her pay the price.

Yeah, he knows they were not exactly in a committed, serious relationship. Yeah, he knows he was not sure if he really wanted her to be a permanent part of his life. But they were technically together at that time. He told her one day she would the mother of his children all the time. And he did risk his life running into her apartment to see if she was alright shortly after the explosion. He did have feelings for her. He did enjoy having her in his bed and so did she. They did have a lot in common. They did know each other's family and friends. She was comfortable and familiar. She was both safe and excitedly dangerous. She had always been different. She was his challenge. She was his trophy. She was the living proof of his superiority over the average boring ordinary men. He had managed to gradually tame her over the years. He is her first, and that fact alone should mean something. Her betrayal was like a slap in his face. So he was not good enough for her. So he was not as good as Ranger. So he came in the second place. And God knew how he hated being second. So without thinking he reached for his gun, and immediately realized he had made the biggest mistake in his life the moment he felt Ranger's powerful merciless fist on his skull.

Morelli order another cup of coffee and another plate of perfectly baked pastries. He eats and drinks in silence. He thinks of all the things he has lost because of Stephanie Plum. He hates it when life is such a mean nasty bitch. He wonders why his mother hasn't called. He thinks of the crazy look in Lula's wild widened eyes and almost sighs. He will have to find a new job soon. He will miss his days as a police detective. Somewhere deep down within he still wants to meet Emily Hasting. And he knows without a trace of doubt that he will never forget the scary and almost cruel gleam in Ranger's eyes. The day Stephanie made her choice in front of the crowd. The day he tried to kill Stephanie Plum.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17  
**

Joe Morelli tries to sell his house, but the real estate market here in Trenton is still a bit slow. And though people keep telling him the price he asks for may be a little too high, he stubbornly refuses to budge. He has cleaned up the house and moved all his stuff back to his mother's place. He still has some money in the bank. He's not in such a hurry to find a new job. Maybe he can rent the house out for the time being or something. Maybe someday a well-to-do newly-wedded couple from Asia or Europe will fall in love with it and decide to start their family in the neighborhood. Maybe he doesn't really want to sell it, he sometimes thinks. The lovely cozy two-story house has been his home for many years, and he doesn't want to let go of the memories so easily. He hasn't told anyone he has regained his memory. He believes this will be easier and better for everyone—he himself included. And he hasn't run into Stephanie again since. He still feels angry and bitter whenever he thinks of her. He hopes Stephanie is not suspecting anything. He doesn't want to wake up in the middle of the night one day and find Ranger standing at the foot of the bed with a gun in his hand.

Yes, he knows he made a most foolish mistake that day when he tried to pull his gun on Stephanie. No, he is not ashamed to say that he's afraid of Ranger. He has known all long Stephanie means a lot to Ranger and has a special place in Ranger's cold calculating mercenary heart. He has known all long Ranger is the most dangerous and unpredictable man he has ever encountered. Now that he no longer has his police-issued gun and badge, he can't help feeling small and timid whenever he thinks of Ranger and his ex-military and ex-gangster thugs. He has seen the pictures of Eddie Abruzzi's contorted dead face. He wasn't exactly surprised when he heard that there was a fresh burn mark on Abruzzi's arm. And there was no proof of foul play and no trace of struggle. He done a little research and asked around just last year, but still has no idea where Ranger's sleek black cars come from. He always felt more than a little victorious when Stephanie came back to his bed after Ranger and his men helped her out and saved her ass. He always enjoyed calling her "Cupcake" in his most sexy lazy bedroom voice and watching her blush when Ranger was right there. He knew he was teasing the lion, but it felt so good. And now he's afraid that Ranger may finally decide it's payback time.

He runs a slightly shaking hand through his hair and exhales a sigh. No need to worry, really. He tells himself. What will come will come. And if Ranger wants him dead, he's dead. He may as well use the time to do something constructive and try to live as happily as he can. He opens the drawer of his wobbly old desk, finds some letter paper and a pen, and starts to write a letter to Emily Hasting. _Dear Emily, _he writes and stops to look at his own handwriting. Cramped and tilted, but thankfully not messy. He wets his lips and keeps on writing. He tells her about his childhood, teenage days, and his life in the Navy. He tells her about his dreams, his longings, and wishes. He tells her about his his pains, his hurts, and his loneliness. He smiles and frowns and almost cries as he writes. He doesn't take notice of his mother when she pushes the door open, takes a look inside, and tiptoes away. He's not sure if he is a good man, he tells Emily. Somehow he's not really sorry for what he did to all those little girls and the 6-year-old Stephanie. He was but a lonely and horny teenager. He took girls' virginity, wrote about them on public bathroom walls, and had a good laugh with his brother, cousins, and friends. It wasn't his fault. He just wanted to have fun. And it's not like he raped them or something. They all knew about his reputation. They had sex with him out of their own consent. He was royal pissed when Stephanie ran him down and broke his leg. But his mother decided not to press charges after a long talk with Mrs. Plum and Mary Lou's mom. He writes and writes and writes. He bares his soul to Emily. He shows her his vulnerability. He won't expect her to write him back, but he will keep on sending her letters and holiday cards. He wishes to know her better. He wants them to be friends.

_Thanks for stepping up for me. _He finally writes._ Sincerely yours, Joseph A. Morelli. _He carefully folds the 4-page letter. He seals it inside an envelope. Maybe Emily will write him a letter. Maybe Emily will want to be friends. Maybe Emily will smile when his next letter arrives. Maybe Emily will tell him about herself. Maybe...maybe Emily will love him back. And he won't be this lonely and helpless. He will once again be brave and courageous. He will find a job, maybe as a mall security guard, or a private detective, or...or a bounty hunter. Yes, he will be one hell of a bounty hunter. He can team up with Jeanne Ellen Burrows and work for Les Sebring. He can go after some of FBI's most wanted. He will make big money in no time at all. He will be famous, and successful. His mother will be proud of him. He won't have to sell his house. And he will be happy. Yes, he will be happy. He needs to be happy. He deserves to be happy. He really does._  
_

Joe Morelli stands up from his desk and smiles and stretches. Maybe he can run to the bakery before dinner and get some cupcakes. He always loves cupcakes. Sweet, fluffy, colorful, and tasty cupcakes. And he will also get a box of cannolis. Both Grandma Bella and Bob love cannolis. He grabs his wallet, steps out of the room he used to share with his elder brother, and sniffs the air. Ah, tomato and eggplant lasagna, his all-time favorite. Life is good. He goes downstairs and tells himself. And yes, he is happy. He really is.

Really.

**~The End~**


	18. Chapter 18: Epilogue

**Epilogue**

A brownish black eighteen-wheeler smashes head on into the bright red Ford Fiesta at the crossroad in front of the mental hospital. The two bulky female guards get distracted by the sickening crashing sound and turn their heads. Emily Hasting takes the chance. They have already uncuffed her wrists. And somehow they didn't shackle her ankles when she left the prison. She runs as fast as she can. She doesn't look back. Not even once. She can hear her breathing in her ears. Her heart feels like it may burst. She's here to receive psychological evaluation. Everyone believes she's mad and in need of treating, and she hates that. No. She's not insane. She's clever. She's brave. She's smart. She meant to kill Stephanie Plum. She knows how to build a perfect time bomb. She was in love with Joseph at that time, and she has always been the kind of woman who will gladly kill for love. But now she's a different person:

She has found her true love.

Yes, she's helplessly in love with that tall, dark, dangerous, muscular Mocha Latte man. She has heard his calm quiet voice, but has never ever spoken to him in person. She wants to know more about him. She wants to be an essential part of his life. And every day, every hour, she wishes and hopes and prays that one day he will love her back. Yes, she knows he doesn't look like the marrying type. Yes, she knows he probably has other beautiful, faithful, submissive and cooperating women in his bed. She also knows for a fact that she's not drop-dead gorgeous or physically attractive. Thus she's happy enough to love him from afar.

Emily runs and runs and runs. The gentle wind blows past her face and makes her feel like she can fly. No, she's not trying to escape. She just wants to hide at the corner across the street when he drives out of the underground garage. She just wants to take a quick look at his shining black car. She just wants to see with her own eyes that he is alright. She will go straight back after that. She won't even stop on the road for a snack. She likes her tiny tidy prison cell. She likes doing her share of the daily chores. She likes the small and not bright enough library. The air inside smells of unread and neglected books. They allow her to read as many books as she wants. They will try what they can to get more books. The only condition is that she must keep quiet during the night. No shouting, no screaming, no wailing. No banging her head against the bars. They will even think about letting her work in the kitchen if she behaves herself. That's an opportunity she can't afford to waste. She's a great cook. She's an excellent baker. She makes the best iced tea and pastries. She loves to see the big happy smile on people's faces when they bite into her chocolate croissants. And people down at the soup kitchen always got in line for a third or fourth helping of her creamy pumpkin soup.

She just wants to take a look of him. She just wants to be near him. She just wants to see him smile. She just wants to hear him speak. She just wants to feel the emotion in that soft, amused "Babe". She still can't believe Stephanie Plum was that stupid. Who, in their right mind, would want Joseph if they could have him? Emily sighs and rolls her eyes. Elizabeth keeps her silence and simply smiles. Soon they will arrive at that street. Soon they will see that seven-floored building. Soon they will find a shadowed corner to hide. Soon they will weep silent, happy tears when they see his car. Yes, the sleek powerful Porsche, the beautiful, amazing artifact, the—

She trips over a stone. She doesn't feel any pain in her foot. She stumbles and falls. The ragged ground turns transparent in front of her eyes. She sits up and gasps. Her heart thumping wildly in her ribcage. She can hear the slim blonde woman snoring like a train in the cell across the hall. She looks around dazed. She's still inside her small clean prison cell. She's sitting in her hard narrow bed. The night shift guards walks down the corridor. Someone moans and murmurs something in her sleep. And Elizabeth, her sweet, brave, brilliant twin sister, is still not talking to her.

Emily Hasting quietly gets out of bed. She goes to sit down at her small desk and takes out a thick stack of unopened letters sent from Trenton. She opens the envelopes carefully, smoothes out the paper, and starts doing origami. She makes paper cranes. She makes paper boats. She makes paper flowers. She keeps humming under her breath. Her pale face becomes peaceful. Her misty grey eyes turn clear and calm. She's a woman in love. She's a woman in jail. She has made some foolish hasty mistakes. She may or may not have remorse and regret. She sometimes dreams about running away from the prison. She always wakes up before she arrives at her destination. She has gotten more and more used to the disappointment. She has quietly accepted her destiny without fighting back or complaining. She's no longer obsessed with Joe Morelli. She's not interested in his life, his dreams, his longings, or his new job as mall security. She's bright. She's smart. She's truthful. She's loyal. She feels sorry that she and Elizabeth are no longer on speaking terms. But only one of them can be Mrs. Carlos Manoso. And she, Emily Hasting, would rather die than let go of his large warm Mocha Latte hand...

**Author's Note: This chapter is inspired by the ever so talented sweetdreams-sunnymornings. If you haven't met her Mercenary Ranger, you totally should.  
**


End file.
